Gamble
by FlarkThis
Summary: "You shouldn't joke about things like that, Furuya. You'll break a girl's heart." FuruMiyu genderbend.
1. Lottery

"Miyuki-senpai," Furuya calls quietly. She stops short, tossing a look over her shoulder that sends her ponytail whipping around her head. Her brows knit together and her lips thin. Furuya gulps.

"Furuya," she answers easily, turning and taking a few swaggering steps toward him. Her expression and attitude are so far removed from each other that Furuya takes half a step back. Nothing good can come from this.

"Did you need something, Fu-ru-ya-kun?" she sing songs, lips curving wickedly. He shifts nervously.

"Are you busy, Senpai?"

"Busy?" she barks. "When am I ever too busy for you?"

Furuya almost starts listing all the times she's turned him down, dumped him on someone else, or plain old ditched him before he realizes she's joking. He looks down, face coloring with embarrassment.

"I just have a question," he mutters sourly. She laughs, visibly toning down the act, and props a hip against the wall.

"You need help with your homework?" she snickers. "Or do you want pitching advice from a _girl_ again?"

Furuya winces. He wishes she wouldn't say it quite like that. Not that he minds getting advice from her - she's been more help than any of the boys on his team so far - but she says it like it's something he should be ashamed of. As if her sex has anything to do with her abilities.

"Nothing like that," he says lowly.

Truthfully, he'd only taken Chris-senpai's advice and asked her for pointers because she's so pretty. Needless to say, he'd been pretty stunned when she'd pulled on her catcher's gear and caught his ridiculous fastball no problem. Plus, she'd picked out his weaknesses with a carefully discerning eye and walked him through the exercises he could do to fix them.

So maybe it's not much of a surprise that he very nearly worships the ground Miyuki-senpai walks upon.

"Oh? So there's more to life than baseball and barely scraping by your classes?"

She crosses her ankles and folds her arms over her chest. Furuya inhales deeply, gathering up all his courage.

"Miyuki-senpai, will you go out with me?" he asks in a rush. The teasing vanishes from her face, replaced by a frightening blankness. She pushes away from the wall, arms dropping to her sides, and looks away.

"You shouldn't joke about things like that, Furuya. You'll break a girl's heart."

Furuya bites down on the inside of his bottom lip. He should have known this was a bad idea. For all that he likes her, Miyuki-senpai is particularly unpleasant about social engagements. Which is generally bad for Furuya, who is particularly dense about social engagements.

"I'm not joking Senpai," he says earnestly, stepping toward her. She snorts, turning to stare him down.

"You must be. Unless you've quit the team, you don't have any free time to take a girl out."

"Sometimes I have free time," Furuya answers desperately.

"What? When you decide you don't need to do your homework?"

He blanches. She's right, of course, but he can't back down now.

"Please, Miyuki-senpai," he implores. She crosses her arms again, rocking back on her heels and eying him critically.

"Why?"

He sighs in discomfort. The answer is easy to know and hard to say. He swallows the lump of nerves in his throat.

"I… like you, Senpai."

Her lips curl, like she's sucking on a lemon.

"Are you pitching in the game this week?" she asks after a moment.

"Yes," Furuya answers quickly, bobbing his head emphatically. She sighs, body slumping as she lets go of all the tension in her shoulders. She snatches the hat from her head, carefully scratching at her scalp with one blunt fingernail.

"I'll make you deal," she exhales, replacing her hat with finality. "If you win the game, I'll _think_ about it. If you lose, you never ask me again. Got it?"

It's harsh, as expected of Miyuki-senpai, but at least it's a chance.

"Yes," he agrees, nodding eagerly. "Please excuse me."

He turns on his heel, putting his long legs to use and hurrying back the way he'd come. He stops only when she calls out to him.

"Oi, where are you running off to?"

Furuya would smile if the expression wasn't so rusty on his face.

"I can run a few more laps tonight, I think."


	2. Broke

Furuya walks her all the way back to her dorm room, hands shoved in his pockets and pink dusting his cheeks. There's an air of misery about him, and Miyuki isn't really sure why. It had started off awkward, but that was bound to happen given that they didn't really know anything about each other outside of baseball. Not to mention that neither of them are particularly outgoing. But honestly, Miyuki thinks he should be happy. She'd let him buy her ice cream and hold her hand for a while, so what more could he possibly want?

He doesn't really fidget, but there's still awkwardness exuding from him. She rolls her eyes, annoyed that he's still here and annoyed with herself for the soft, mushy fondness blooming in her chest. She drops a hand on his shoulder and pushes up on the balls of her feet to brush a kiss across his cheek.

"Thanks," she bites out, even though the word tastes sour on her tongue. He should thank her for agreeing to go on a date with him in the first place.

"Senpai," he murmurs, ducking his head as the pink on his cheeks darkens to red. "Will you go out with me again?"

She pats his shoulder firmly and steps backwards toward her door. He's lucky he's cute, asking something that presumptuous.

"Come back after you win the next game and we'll see, hmm?"


End file.
